Fast Food Waiter
This story is not by 'Anonymous'. It's by DaveTheUseless. The year is 1977. It is a typical, sunny day in the downtown area of a peaceful suburb. The wind rustles by. Birds are singing. Children play. It is, for all intents and purposes, a truly wonderful day, in a town in which every day tends to be a truly wonderful day. Of course, in a such a tranquil area, one would expect that the inhabiting citizens would notice if something was a little off. At first, nothing is, and therefore, there’s nothing in particular to notice. Cars zimming and zooming up and down the street are an ordinary occurrence, so, when a light green Ford LTD hums into the parking lot of a favored fast food establishment—no one was purposely watching. In fact, no one was noticing. Not the car, not its movement, and certainly not the gentleman behind the steering wheel. Some seconds pass. Then minutes roll by. Finally, hours tick and tock and melt away, the sunlight becomes sunset becomes sundown. The next day, an employee of the popular fast food restaurant peruses the parking lot and indeed remembers the car, but assumes that the gentleman shops or is employed at another establishment in the strip. He assumes the same the next day, and the day following, for the subsequent days, weeks, and months. Finally, it occurs to him that it’s unlikely that the very same man would just so happen to be parked in the very same spot, in the very same position, sitting the very same way, without moving at all, for all of these days, weeks, and months. He gathers up the courage to approach the car. At worst, he’d seen a ghost, but he was no believer in the supernatural. At best, perhaps he would be helping a stranger with some sort of uncanny quirk that he could use assistance for, but didn’t have the psychological capability to ask for it. On his way to the car, the employee realizes that he could check on the man later on in the day, rather than the 9:00 hour in which he came to work, to evaluate if the man had a habit of staying in his car. Perhaps the man stayed in his car for 20 minutes before leaving, or 30. Perhaps, when he finally did remove himself from his vehicle, that would be the perfect time to approach him and ask him about his strange… condition. Ah, but it was too late: the cordial fast food custodian had already decided to knock on the window. Tap, tap, tap. "Sir, are you okay?", he asks. No response. The man—balding, middle aged, wearing a dress shirt and khakis—is clearly breathing, while his eyes are casually open, unblinking. Other than an unwillingness, or incapability, to speak, he appears to be doing just fine. Suddenly, in an inexplicable twist of fate, the custodian feels an undeniable desire to leave the man alone. Almost as if in a trance-like state, the restaurant employee retreats from his crouching position and walks away. Days later, other strip mall employees, as well as some frequent customers, notice the man and consider calling the police, or, perhaps, an ambulance. But every time such a bystander attempts to use the closest phone and prepares to dial an appropriate number, they stop cold in their tracks, as if barred by some sort of spiritual force. No one can do anything, but more curiously, no one feels the urge to do anything anymore. They lose all desire to discuss the man. Some forget that the man is even there, while others treat his presence as a common, everyday occurrence, as if it is just another typical, peaceful facet of a typical, peaceful suburban town. More days, weeks, months, and even years roll by. The laws of hygiene and human necessity are miraculously bypassed: the man does not need to eat, drink, sleep, or use a bathroom, although he continues to sit in his car’s driver’s seat, breathing, with his eyes well open. Meanwhile, no one caring turns into no one noticing. Children grow up, move out, get married, have babies. All facets of culture change, from entertainment to politics to conversational and lifestyle norms. Finally: it is the year 2016. In a once-in-a-lifetime event that would have left modern residents in shock and awe, mouths gaping, as something they would have known to stubbornly, steadfastly be throughout their entire earthly lives, if not those of their older siblings’ and parents’ lives—the man raises a hand, key clutched inside. He starts up the engine. Nearly four decades had come and gone since the man had parked, stopped, and waited. And now, he was to wait a time more. The man anticipated slightly turning his vehicle, but he was not ready to remove himself from the lot just yet. No one was around to hear him mutter his rationale under his breath. "I am just waiting for the drive-through to open." Category:CreepyPasta Article Category:Creepypastas narrated by DaveTheUseless